StarCrossed
by CaptiveFaRaMiRheart
Summary: It wasn't ever suppose to happen...
1. Wanting something eles

A/N: This is a working progress. No Faramir/Eowyn. No slash. Can be book, or movie verse. I'm personally going with movie because David is very beautiful. Desperately trying to not make it a Mary-Sue. This fanfiction has been keeping me up for nights, distracting me during school, and has been causing me severe mental distress. Before I throw it into darkness, and let the dust bunnies live on it, I need to at least give it a go. so...here's my really small green light for go...Happy Holidays!

DISCLAIMER: Dear Santa, for Christmas, I want Faramir because _I do not own him or any other characters mentioned unless otherwise stated._

"He wants me and my men in Ithilien now"

"--and mine in Osgiliath"

The two sons of Gondor conversed in the elder's office. Boromir, who always had a hint of over-confidence, was slouched in his chair, with a glass of wine residing in his hand. His hair seemed bothered, and he wore a timid, reserved expression, which was unlikely.

However, Timid and reserved were no strangers to the face of the younger brother, who's eyes wondered through the glass of the window. There was always something on Faramir's mind. Something about it is that nobody could ever tell what, exactly. Not even him, when times where dark. It was never uncommon for the second born to be less outspoken than the first, but he pursued it. Still, he was Gondor's finest Captain.

"When does Father want you out there?", Boromir asked him. Faramir turned to him.

"At nightfall", he replied, and walked from the window. He took seat opposite his brother, a busy desk between them.

"I do not know what he thinks you'll find there. He _knows_ in Osgiliath is where we really need you", Boromir said, taking a sip of wine. Faramir said nothing, and he took a second look.

"You do not want to be in Osgiliath", Boromir said, statement wise.

A smile played around Faramir's lips.

"No, _he_ does not want me there".

"Steward of Gondor sends his son to the woods only to get eaten alive by locusts after having a miserable time!", Boromir laughed.

Faramir smiled.

"Funny"

"No", replied Boromir, setting his glass down.

"Do you want to know what is funny? _This_", he said, pointing to his left cheek. It was red, and Faramir could make out a hand print.

"What happened?", he asked.

"Well", he started.

"Remember that one maiden who I--"

"--Yes, the maiden that you..."

"Mmm. Then I remembered she had a similar looking sister...So, we wake up this morning...and I say 'Good morning, Elena'---her sister's name",Boromir then clicked his tongue, and pointed to his cheek. Faramir chuckled.

"You deserved it"

"I did not. It was not my fault both of them were alike", he said.

"In more ways then one", he added lowly to himself.

Faramir smiled, catching the last comment.

"Perhaps you are just looking in the wrong places", Faramir suggested, more amused than concerned for Boromir.

Boromir scoffed.

"I am not looking at all!"

Faramir raised his eyebrows.

Boromir then pointed a finger at him.

"It is _you_ who needs to look"

"What you want and what I want are two different things, we both know that", Faramir said in his own defense.

"..and what I want, you cannot get by just looking", he added.

Not wanting to open any subjects on women, marriage, the future, or any uncomfortable topics, he stood up, and headed toward the door.

"Good luck in Osgiliath", he said, looking last at his brother.

"Ditto, little brother", Boromir replied.

Faramir closed the door behind him, and headed down the hall.

It was, however, unclear what Faramir really wanted out of life.

A/N:ahhhh please review. I don't care if its the meanest comment ever, just something to know that this doesn't sound like a total cheesefest, and the means to continue with this fic!! This chapter was just laying groundwork, just some ..brotherly stuff..but if you review, I promise it'll turn out to be everything and more!! Thanks!


	2. Leena

A/N: Last night, I hatched a pre-pre-pre mature egg, but it was the only way so there's NO backing out of it. Am I ready for this fic? At the moment, I am. Winter break, no school, I can finally hear my plot bunnies hopping, and Evil Skittle scheming...Alright, I did some "Haradrim" research, finding that these peeps actually FEAR Sauron. Well, my version..they feared him, but they're so corrupted that they are loyal to him...kinda the same..."Leena" is an Arabic name, and I find it suits the young woman who we are about to meet.(I am not being prejudice, I only find a strong connection between Middle-Eastern and Haradrim names) Thank you so much for reviews! I really need them. Alright, here goes...oh yes, and teeny lyrics used are from Evanescence's "Before The Dawn". I did not write the lyrics.

DISCLAIMER: Santa, I'm still waiting to own Faramir.

"Meet me after dark again, and I'll hold you"

Strands of long black curls curtained the tanned face, while brown eyes attempted to stay open.

"I am nothing more than to see you there"

Slender fingers managed the quill writing the last words on skin. The skin housing the soul of a young woman. She repeated the first two lines written on her forearm to herself, finding a tune to match, though none would come. She grunted in exhaustion, swinging her arm to the ground, where she lay.

It was not uncommon for Leena to lay on the grass. She never found it dirty, or contaminated, she only found it a childhood memory, and any memory of youth was dear to her. Those days belonged to her and her late mother. The only witness of any game played, secret told, or treasures found, was the warming sun, who frequently joined in. There was no warming sun now, no games to be played, or secrets to be told; for there was no mother to call the sun, and whisper the secrets.

"Leena, what are you doing?", came a voice.

She looked up, and coming toward her way was the light that always pulled her from the darkness: Her father. He was tall and masculine, and bore her very eyes. The Haradrim sighed at the sight of his beloved daughter.

"How many times must I tell you to not write ink on yourself?", he asked, catching sight of her arm.

She stood up, and rolled down her sleeve.

"Father, may I ask you a question?"

"Ask away"

"What is that on your face?", she sarcastically said, referring to the patterns of ink on his own face.

"T'is a mark of heritage and loyalty. Not some foolish words"

Leena glared.

"It isn't foolish words", she defended. "It is my thoughts"

Her father sighed again.

"You are becoming ever more distant, my child", he replied, embracing her. She returned the embrace, knowing he completely understood her writings.

"Now get some rest. We are headed out tomorrow, and --"

"Father?", Leena interrupted.

"Hmm?"

"It is not me who needs their strength should any Gondorien have a sword at ready", she calmly said. He chuckled at this.

"Ai, Leena", he said, planting a kiss on her forehead. She smiled.

"Goodnight, father", she said, as he turned back to the campsite.

She loved her father more than anything the world had to offer. She was once frightened that everytime he went to battle, he might've not returned. Though, she's learn to live with that risk. No man could come between daughter and father, no words could steal her heart from him. She knew, though, at her mid 20's,one day she would have to part with him, start her own family, and bless him with grandchildren...

...but that day was far away from today...

A/N: You know that haggard-looking man who's always playing the guitar on the street, wanting coins? Yeah, well that's me, except, I'm wanting reviews. Pennies, or Franklins, I'll accept anything! Thanks so much!! How do you think I am with character-development?


	3. No Remorse

A/N:Thanks so much for the reviews, it means alot to me. I'm doing 3rd person omniscient, so watch out for the transition...alright, here we go..

DISCLAIMER:Faramir is not mine (gosh, it hurts to say that..)

"You concentrate on what you want", Faramir whispered. His bow and arrow were at ready. His eyes were strained through the darken night, the moonlight leaking through the canopy forest trees of Ithilien.

"On what I what", a voice replied beside him. He was the latest and youngest ranger to the group, and was already gaining to be Faramir's favorite.

"On what you want, Darhol",he finalized.

"When I shoot, you shoot",Faramir instructed softly.

"Yes"

"..Alright..", he whispered. Muscles strained, at ready, he let go. Semi seconds later, the next arrow flew past him. Eyes followed, and both arrows hit the same bark of the targeted tree.

Muscles relaxed.

"..And do not hesitate", Faramir added.

Darhol sighed.

"Do you think we'll get anything today, Captain?", he asked, his black hair framing the sides of his face.

" Patience, Darhol", Faramir replied, setting himself down on the forest grounds. Darhol sat next to him. It was half-past midnight, and as expected, there wasn't any foe in sight.

"Captain, I've..I've been meaning to ask you a question". Darhol started

"And what is that?"

"The first time...you killed a man...did you feel any remorse?", his voice went deathly quiet, as of it was a forbidden question.

A few moments of silence, then Faramir answered.

"Well, you are not suppose to. Your feelings do not matter when you let that arrow go.", he said.

"You do not care one bit of the life you've taken away, because all you know is that they are the enemy", he added.

Faramir knew Darhol knew this. It was only anxious feelings. He gave him a reassuring smile, to which Darhol returned.

"Captain!", a voice interrupted.

Faramir looked up, and coming his way was Mablung. He looked quite worried. He leaned very close, then whispered, "Haradrim".

Immediately, Faramir stood up. Fast-paced, he walked to the campsite, where all his men stood, weapons at ready. Across the forest, he could make out silhouettes of figures. There was not that many.

Across the forest, Leena could make out indistinctive figures. The vague moonlight would not let her see more.

"Father, be careful", she whispered to him, who was beside her.

"Leena, stay back!", her father whispered sharply. "I do not want you to----"

A sound of a shooting arrow, then a fallen man was enough to know what just happened. Leena back away into the trees, and witnessed the beginning of a battle.

The Haradrim raced across the forest, shouting indistinctively. Leena kept a close eye on her father, watching from a distance. She was about to make a run, when strong hands tightly grasped her waist.

"Where do you think you are going, miss?"

She turned around and saw an unknown face. Knowing he was not one of her own, she immediately started fighting against the man.

"Let me go!", she yelled, but the clanging of swords, shooting arrows, and yells drowned her own voice.

The man dragged her to the other side of the forest, where she knew the enemies were.

Faramir continued fighting, using all strength. He kept a keen eye on Darhol, who was showing no sigh of hesitation.

A horn was heard from a distance, and a shout.

"FALL BACK!"

The rangers stood still. Already, the Haradrim surrendered? There weren't that many to 'fall back'.

"Captain!", yelled, Mablung, who came to his side, laughing.

"What in Eru's name was that?"

"Shh!", whispered Faramir, holding a hand to silence all. He listened intently. Was this a joke? He strained his eyes to see if anyone was hiding...nobody. He sighed, and took notice of the wound on his shoulder. It was bleeding freely. He turned to his men, who all looked around, perhaps waiting for something to happen.

Through the trees, came Damrod, who held somebody captive.

"I found this little spy in the woods", he said, bringing her to the Captain. He had bounded her hands and mouth. Her face was fierce.

"Let her go!"

the girl's eyes widened and her face lit up. she tried to break free, but it was futile.

One last Haradrim came running their way. Before turning around, before second glances, Faramir ran his sword through the broad-chest man with his good arm; Blood splattered in several places, as the man fell to the ground.

Leena instantly reacted. She screamed the most piercing scream, as she watched her father fall to the floor, dead. Instead of attempting to break free and run to her father, all her muscles just gave in. She dropped to the ground, and cried. Her captor dragged her back up, yet she did not dare fight back.

"What do you want to do with her", Damrod asked.

Faramir, one hand over his wound, replied, "Take her with us".

They started walking towards Hennath Annun.

"Is your shoulder alright, Captain", Darhol asked, eyeing him.

"It's only a wound", he replied, reminding himself of Boromir, who'd say something like that.

"I saw you fighting", he added.

Darhol smiled, and nodded.

"No remorse"

A/N:I'm not asking for sympathy, or anything, but I know this chapter was like "blehh"...this proves that I cannot write during the daytime...hmm...review, please!


	4. Confrontation

A/N: Thank for the reviews! I've taken note of the few grammar mistakes, and thank you to those who pointed it out, I'll be more careful now. I'm just trying to get through at least half of this fic before I have to return to the prison of study for adolescents (AKA school) So my mind's really racing...here we go!

DISCLAIMER: Tolkien Tolkien Tolkien

Faramir picked up the wet rag from the basin, squeezing the excess water from it. He placed it upon his bare shoulder, and dabbed away the dried blood. The rag was then placed back into the basin, as he bandaged the wound. It was causing his left arm to have a slight numbness, but he dealt with it. He then re-adjusted his tunic, careful not to make too much movement with his arm. Sighing, he looked around the cave of Hennath Annun; His men were all exhausted, most were already resting. ..which was a good thing.

Damrod walked towards him, and seated himself on a barrel next to him.

"The spy is surprisingly quiet, Captain," he said.

"I placed guards in front of the archway, in case she tries to escape," he added. Faramir nodded vaguely.

"Did you get a name?"

"No, Sir," Damrod replied. Faramir nodded again, closing his eyes for just a moment. Impossible that he would've gained a bit more energy when he opened then again. He then stood up.

"Get some rest, Damrod," he said, walking away. He walked into the archway, which was dimly lit.

The girl was seated in the furthest corner, head resting on her knees. She apparently did not see him come in. He walked closer to her, knowing not if her eyes were open behind the curtains of black hair. He cleared his throat to make notice.

She picked her head up, and he saw visible tears on her face. For a moment, their eyes met. Then her brow creased, and she said something quietly, something he couldn't understand.

"Sorry?", he said, confused.

She repeated the phrase louder, and it was a language he knew not. Apparently, it wasn't anything pleasant. She stood up, and very swiftly pulled out a small knife, but he was too fast. He caught her wrist and held it tightly.

"Drop the knife," he said quietly said. She yelled once again in the foreign language, attempting to spit on his face, but he jerked his head.

"Oh, I do not understand you, you do not understand me," he muttered sarcastically. He twisted her arm to her back, and had her face against the rocky cave wall. She was trying his patience, he knew she understood completely what he had said.

"Drop the knife," he repeated.

"Why? So you could kill me as you did him?" she yelled.

"Who?" he said, stunned she gave in to the understanding thing.

"I swear I will avenge him, then I will drop the knife..drop it with your blood stains on it"

'I am not here to play little games," he warned.

"Good, because this isn't a ---"

"Drop the damn knife!" he yelled.

"Get your filthy hands off me!"

He sighed. Anger and patience weren't exactly resting on the bottom of the ocean. He started to apply pressure on her wrist, letting go only when he knew he was hurting her, letting go only when she finally dropped the knife. He picked it up with one hand, and pocketed it safely. He then bound her hands together behind her back.

"Do you want to tell me your name now?" he said quietly, but she stayed silent. He nodded, then turned her over. There was still wet tears on her face. She kept her eyes down, taking no notice of him.

Who were you spying for, and why?" he asked.

Silence answered still.

"Answer me, miss"

Nothing. She wouldn't even make a sign that he was speaking. Knowing he wouldn't get anywhere, knowing that his mind was about to completely shut down, he nodded again. As of to say "alright, then," he dropped his hands to his sides, and bid her goodnight. He informed the guards to keep watch of her throughout the night.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Leena slid back to the ground, as tears hastily sprang anew. It wasn't the fact that she was trapped, but the fact that the man who killed her father was _so close_ to her...but she didn't even try to get her revenge. She couldn't back up her words with action; she was a strong soul inside a weak body. It hadn't even been a day, and she already brought shame upon his grave.

_"I swore revenge, and by every power in the world I shall have it"_

A/N: "omg Faramir would _never_ lay hands on a woman like that!!"--yeah, yeah, so my mind kept telling me. Let's hear something different.


	5. Good Morning

A/N:Merry Christmas all!!

DISCLAIMER: I'm merely borrowing characters.

The few hours Leena was in the cave seemed like more than a few years. The coldness did not only reflect the winter's arrival, but also the hearts of the men who brought her here...she was no spy. She committed no crime. What did they want her for? Bribery and interrogation, that was all.

She lifted her sleeve. The words she had written were still there. Her father was right. It was nothing but foolish, stupid words that didn't mean anything. She attempted to rub the words off, but all it did was smear.

Someone came in from the archway. She looked up, and saw a soldier carrying a small bowl. He came over to her and set the bowl down at her feet.

"The Captain sent some water, in case you were thirsty," he said.

"I don't want it," she muttered, not even looking at it, but the soldier was already gone. Her brows creased in annoyance. She took the water and drank it, knowing she was greatly thirsty. Then with a thrust, she threw the empty bowl near the opening.

"I don't need you hospitality!", she shouted, but the only response was her echo.

She wiped her mouth, and sighed...why didn't her father listen when they fell back? It was foolish that he purposely killed himself for nothing.

"Did that help me at all, father?" she whispered, holding her head on her knees.

"Did you save me?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"They'll come back for her, once they know she's gone," Faramir said.

"Captain, these are but assumptions," Madril replied.

"I can't let her go, not now...we've brought her here already. Who knows the information she'll give them...," Faramir muttered.

"Yes, but we do not even know if she is a Harad"

Faramir laughed loudly. Of course the girl was a Harad. Where else could she have come from?

"No, listen..she could've been an outcast, a wonderer...there are plenty possibilities," Madril explained.

"Madril...I am positive she is a Harad," Faramir finalized.

The sun was rising over Hennath Annun. The men were all lounging,conversating, and even practicing their sword movements.

"You need to have space between you and your sword, you do not want to hurt yourself," Mablung teased, to a dueling Darhol.

"Unfortunate you. Your belly fat takes the space between you and your sword!" Darhol replied, blocking Mablung's sword away. His hit was very strong, flying Mablung's sword out of his hand. He turned and picked it up.

"Your getting good, young one," he said, exhaling.

"We'll take a break," he added.

Darhol agreed, wiping the sweat off his forehead. He pushed his black hair back with his hand, then sheathed his sword. He took a look around, and saw the unguarded archway. With curious eyes, he slowly walked towards it.

He noticed the girl slouched on the cave-floor, bored and miserable looking. With caution, he walked towards her.

"Until you confess what you were doing, I'm positive you'll be in here for some time," he said, in a "this is a fact" tone.

Leena looked up at the incoming man, and scoffed.

"I don't need your entertainment, and I don't need your water!" she harshly said.

"Water was not from me..and I assure you..I am of no entertainment," he replied, in a friendly manner.

"Then go away," she replied, ducking her head back down to her knees.

Darhol nodded.

"It is a bit cold..perhaps if you need a blanket, or...," he said, moments later.

"I said I don't need your hospitality!"

"I am only trying to---"

"That's enough, Darhol"

Darhol turned around. In came Faramir, walking towards him.

Leena looked up. Instantly, hatred and anger boiled within her as it did last night. He came closer, and she tried to compose herself, but the emotions were all too strong. She sprang up, and made a go for him. Faramir took a step back, but Darhol got ahold of her before she could reach him.

"No, I don't want to see you!" she yelled, trying to break free of Darhol's grip. She made sure the murderer's eyes were locked with her's.

"Get out, I don't want to ever see you again!" her heart started pounding terribly fast. She screamed, and kicked, but he drew closer to her. Why wasn't he leaving?

He signaled for Darhol to leave. For only a moment, she was free. Though, before she could fully attack the man, he was already holding her down.

"Let me go!" she screamed in his face.

"Let me go! I hate you! I HATE YOU!" she screamed again, and again. With one swift movement, she had scratched the side of his face. It made a mark, and he backed away, but only for a second.

"I thought I had bound you," he said, surprisingly calm. He took her squirming hands, and bound them, once again, behind her back. Still, she tried to hurt him, but he got ahold of her shoulders.

"You know how this is going to end," he said loudly.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"You know how this is going to end," he repeated, louder, and more clearly.

Sweat poured down her face, but she continued to scream louder. Her lungs were on fire, and she knew she was later on going to have no voice, but she didn't care.

"LET GO OF ME! I HATE YOU!"

Still, he held her shoulders. Unfrightened, unshaken.

She was crying freely, but didn't even notice.

"I hate you," she sobbed.

"I hate you, just leave me alone," she continued to cry. Sobs that racked her body.

He gripped her shoulders still, and she openly cried. For her weakness. For the loss of her father.

"Let me go..I hate you, I hate you," she whispered...for she could not scream any longer. She was dizzy, and needed to lay down, but he kept her up.

She needed to back him away. If anything, that is all she needed to do. To get him away from her sight. With one futile attempt, she pushed her head against his chest. He remained unmoved, and so did she.

"Leave me alone", she barely whispered again, keeping her head on his chest. Her head ached, she tried to get up, but all she could do was cry. His grip on her shoulders loosened, and he slowly carried her to the ground.

It was only a moment. A moment where she needed to rely on someone for comfort. She held on to him and cried. She was too dizzy to think. She became unaware of who he was, and where she was. She tried to calm her breathing by taking deep breaths, but they kept coming out short, and in need of air. It was then, when he plucked her head up, that she came to her senses, and once again realized who he was.

She then backed away from him, into a corner, where she turned her face away from him.

"Please--leave me a-alone," she whispered, attempting to breath properly.

Faramir frowned. What was it exactly did he did to cause all of this? He moved closer, wanting to help her breath, or at least calm her, but she flinched away violently. He heard something that sounded like a very faint "no", but he wasn't sure.

"Let me help you," he whispered, but she shook her head still.

"Please--"

"Captain," interrupted a soft voice. He turned around, and saw Madril standing in the archway. It was the way he said 'captain'. It sounded more like ' Move away, she cannot handle any more'. Perhaps he was right. He stood up, glancing at the girl, before moving out.

All his men where still. It was all too obvious they heard everything that was said (or yelled) in the last minutes. They all looked at him, but he looked not. Madril followed him into another archway, where none others where permitted to follow.

"What just happened in there?" he asked, bewildered.

"I don't know," Faramir immediately replied.

"I don't know what just happened"

"Your face," Madril said.

"Huh?"

"Your face...it's bleeding"

Faramir held a hand to his face, and saw blood on it. That one scratch she did was one good one. He sighed.

"Would you leave me?" he said.

"Sir?"

"I need to be alone, please leave," he repeated, harshly.

Madril showed himself out without another word.

Faramir seated himself on the nearest barrel. Why did the girl hate him so much?

_(((("Why? So you could kill me as you did him?"))))  
_

Who was it that he killed? Who was it that mattered to her so much?

He sighed, and closed his eyes. It was only morning, and yet he was already aggravated.

A/N: This chapter had nothing to do with emotions that will spring later, It was purely about comfort. Leena didn't feel anything when he held her, all she knew what that she greatly needed to be comforted. Just to make that clear...review please!!


	6. Secrets Spilled

A/N: Ahhh, here we go again...reviews are greatly appreciated!

The next few weeks went by as a blur. Leena kept to herself, occasionally awkward confrontations with the Captain, though still refusing to speak with anyone. This went well for the others, but it was poking at Faramir. She was disturbing their movement. He had agreed to let her go, though he had first to know her intentions. The girl knew this. She knew with a quick lie, she could easily get away, but she'd be gambling the chance of leaking information for her people. She was in no position to pass that up.

In conclusion, she'd say nothing. They'd eventually get tired of her, and let her go. You'd think it'll be that easy to keep your mouth shut, though.

"A quilt for you, miss,"

Mablung set a brown-colored quilt next to her. She looked up.

"When is this going to end?" she asked.

"Pardon?"

Leena stood up, and walked towards him.

"You come in here...3,4 times a day. I say nothing to you. You take notice, and report back to that bastard man you dare call 'Captain' ,"

Mablung blinked, perhaps stunned of her sudden words.

"I do not---"

"Don't lie to me," she hit back, almost immediately.

"He's probably listening on the other side right now, as we speak," she added, eyeing the archway.

"I assure you, when the Captain wants information, he'll be given it"

"Oh, is that so?" she whispered.

"Well...he'd be glad to know that I, in fact ,was not spying on anyone. I was only looking after my father, who he murdered right in front of my eyes. Yes, I am of the Haradrim. Yes, I resent you, and everyone of your kind, and yes...I am seeking revenge. And my, what a sweet thing it will be. Once we have full power of your country, I will take your Captain and I'll have my way with him. His father, his mother, and his unfortunate little wife will watch as I bathe in his blood...then I'll feed his corpse to the orcs...that is, if there _is _a corpse left...how is that for information?"

Mablung stared at her with the most unreadable expression. He looked frozen. Perhaps wondering if she was telling the truth or not.

"Go on...go tell him. Your like his dog, aren't you?"

He exhaled, for a long time, and she watched him closely.

"Well, aren't you going to tell?" she said, her eyes suddenly innocent looking, her voice pure. As of saying "Aren't you going to tell mother you made her a wonderful present?"

He scratched his head, and his eyes locked with hers still.

"Why...after all this time--- why would you tell me this?" he said, wondering why she was opening up so suddenly.

"Well, your man needs information. I gave it to you," she said simply.

"...And the fact that you trust me with _this_," she added, picking up the quilt, letting it unfold.

"One does not know what could be done with this...oh, I could suffocated myself...or choke on it...better yet, be hanged," she whispered loudly, to him. She then placed it on the floor, and set herself down.

"Now go on, I need rest...and you wouldn't want to keep your master waiting," she said, closing her eyes.

Mablung still kept frozen. Was she making this all up? Should he even trust her? Regardless, he turned around, and walked out.

She _knew_ he wouldn't say anything. She _knew_. Men and their masculinity...what was there to protect? She smirked.

"What took you so long?" Faramir said to Mablung, as he came his way.

Mablung sighed.

"Huh? Oh, she...she wanted to know when we'll be leaving...I told her it was up to her," he replied.

"Ah," Faramir said, fortunately, his eyes were occupied with other things. Otherwise, he would've straight-away have caught the white lie.

Later that night...

Leena tossed around. She couldn't lay herself to rest, having intentionally blown her secrets. Her instant trust on the man wasn't so assuring now. She got up quietly. not sure of what she was going to do. They hadn't given her that much to eat, and her stomach had noticed that. Perhaps she'd sneak in some sustenance.

She peered around the archway, and saw all men asleep. She started to go around them, when she saw the barrels being occupied...by him. It was a blessing his back was turned to her. She didn't want to put up with him again.

He had his head down. she couldn't tell if he had fallen asleep, or he was awake. She always felt an instant tension whenever he was around, and she didn't like it. She crawled backed into the archway, away from him. She wondered what he was thinking about...

_My death sentence_... she joked.

_or how he'll interrogate me for answers_...

She heard movement, and she quickly went back to her resting place. She closed her eyes, wondering if he'll sharpen his sword first, or if he'll let her have her say of last words...

_Shut up, he's not going to kill you now..._

Faramir peered into the archway. He could've sworn he heard something, but the girl was soundly sleeping. His senses reflected on his energy. Without another thought, he walked back.

Leena sighed inward. It was a close call. It was also the first time in weeks he entered the cave. She kept her eyes closed, this time, really falling asleep.

A/N: Review, please! Nothing really happened in this chapter, but im slowly working through it.


	7. Early Winter

A/N: Writer's block...we've all had it, experienced it, suffered it, even learn to live with it. Honestly, I'm truly sorry for the two month delay. Ahh...ack! Sorry, sorry, sorry...alright, no more sorrys..

DISCLAIMER: Tolkien:"Remember Faramir, you belong to me"

"The lower bridge will collapse soon. That will block our fastest exit route."

"Then you must reinforce it, quickly."

"Yes, father."

A tired-looking Boromir sat opposite the Steward in his office. A glass of wine in between them.

"I want a few of your men to watch over it, once it is complete. As you know, that bridge is a little more than an aid for the orcs as well," Denethor said.

"Yes, I know," Boromir replied, unconsciously rubbing the stubble on his chin in a pensive manner. He looked slowly toward the window. White flakes were covering the panel. For a moment, he closed his eyes, but just as quickly, opened them.

"You seem...distracted," Denethor noted.

"It is a bit early for snow...", he muttered, turning back to him. Immediately, he stifled down a laugh, shaking his head back and forth. "I am sorry, father. I am only--"

"You are only in need of a long slumber,"

"--Yes," Boromir said. Denethor nodded in agreement.

'And what of your brother?" He said. Boromir noted the sudden change in subject, as well as tone. His brow creased. He hadn't thought much of Faramir since his departure. He cleared his throat.

"I know not the delay of his return, but surly he has encountered something requiring his attention." This was the best he could do.

"I see," He replied, softly. "Inform me when he returns," he added.

"Yes, father,"

There was a quiet pause, in which Boromir swished around the wine in the glass, slowly, before finishing it.

"You have my leave, son,"

"Father, I can--"

"You need rest. I do not want you falling over and causing injury, to yourself or to anyone else," Denethor explained. A smile played around Boromir's lips. The then sighed inwardly.

"Thank you, father," he whispered, standing up. Denethor once again nodded, as he closed the door behind him.

Denethor put his hands to his head, and sighed. With one look at the window, he saw it. Indeed, it was an early winter.

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Her two brown eyes stared into utter darkness, unmoved. It was too quiet. Even for the night. If there was one thing Leena would not do tonight, it was closing her eyes. She couldn't stay here. Not another night. Not even another hour. Guilt constantly reminded her that she didn't even once try to break free all those previous nights. No matter. Tonight would be that night.

The quilt fell to the floor as she stood up. She reached out her hands, like a blind man, to find the cave walls to guide her through. The coldness ran up her spine, and she shivered. She found the archway, and peered through. The moonlight cast shadows upon all men asleep. A figure to the far left told her that the captain, also, was asleep. She breathed in, and started to make her way through.

She kept herself on the edges of the wall so she would not have to cross over any of the men. The first exit she could think of, and perhaps the only one, was the waterfall. The roaring waterfall, that had a jump of at least 20 feet. It would be impossible to jump through the running water, but there were two openings where water did not touch. Two small openings, one on each side, grounded with grass that eventually led to the forest floors. That would be her exit.

She felt sprays of water reach her face, as she approached closer to the waterfall. She bent low, and felt the cross-over from wet cave floor, to moisten green grass. With a little more movement, her knees were no longer grounded in the cave. She stood up, inches dangerously near the descending blankets of water. Her ears were most likely deafen by the sound of its roar. She looked at it with frightful eyes, as if it was to come alive and swallow her up. She kept her back directly against the exit walls of the cave, moving ever so slowly on the slippery grass. With at least 7 feet away from her and the archway of the cave, she sighed with relief. She was out of the cave. Out of their reach. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the accomplishment...but it did not last long. Her left foot slipped on the grass, causing her to lose her balance. With a failing attempt, she reached out her hands to grab on to something to hold, only to let it slip through her wet fingers. She fell down, the cold wind rushing through her ears, plunging into the Forbidden Pool.

Somewhere in the near distance, Faramir awoke from a small sound that did not quite seem right...

A/N: Reviews, please!! Greatly appreciated!


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